love and other curses
by bentothegreat
Summary: this story takes place between the end of the lost dessert plot and the final chapters when Jazan's father attacks. it explores why it only concerned Jazan that the world was still in ruin after they had been married for awhile. actually always bothered me so i wrote this several years ago. spiced it up and present it to the world. friend has edited spelling/grammar errors now :)


**this story takes place between the end of the lost dessert plot and the final chapters when Jazan's father attacks. it explores why it only concerned Jazan that the world was still in ruin after they had been married for awhile.**

Nabile had kept her mouth shut the ride to Qasala — her new home. She was in awe, and still a little shell-shocked. Merely hours before, she had intended to stop Jazan from marrying. Now, she returned to his home as his bride. Wearing his mother's dress, no less.

He lightly jumped from Nighsteed's back and turned to face her — stern face, scary red eyes. It should not have been that way. She loved him. Or, at least, the him that she had learned about when reading his story in the tablets. He should have returned to his normal, mortal form at this point.

He lifted his arms for some reason, like he was going to catch her when she fell. "I'm okay," she said.

He looked hurt, but stepped aside just the same.

"Nabile, it is customary for a gentlemen to help a woman alight from her ride," Nightsteed said, nuzzling Nabile's back with his nose.

"What?" Nabile asked.

"I was just going to help you down," the prince said, poking his elbow at her for some reason.

"Jazan," the Uni said, "I know I speak for most of Qasala when I say we are grateful for this girl to become our queen over the Sakhmet brat… but she has no idea what you are doing. Look at her face." He chuckled to himself.

Jazan sighed, reached over, and pulled Nabile's arms toward his arm. "Get used to this. It is probably how you will be walking outside of the palace for the rest of our lives when we are together."

Nabile had read books. She had seen pictures. This was escorting: a way of walking saved for princesses and nobles, not street urchins playing dress-up. She obeyed stiffly.

Jazan said, "Loosen up. You're making me nervous."

"Sorry… You're nervous? What about me?" Nabile replied in a whisper.

The Nightsteed watched the pair approach the castle. It was going to be awhile before the prophecy was completed. Love was beginning to blossom in the young Ixi, but she was too much in awe to truly love. And Jazan was Jazan. Honor came first in all things, then the welfare of his people, then friends. He would need to decide himself where the young Ixi placed in his own mind.

"We set up your mother's quarters for her," a bandaged Ruki woman said, opening a deteriorating door to a room that was barely standing.

"Don't we have anything a bit sturdier?" Jazan asked.

"The mages assured us it would not fall, and rain is rare enough that the open roof will actually be a blessing," the woman sniffed. "Unless, of course, you would like to send her to the servant quarters."

"Of course… of course…" the prince said. Then, he turned to Nabile. "I am sorry about this. We were not prepared for a guest bride. But after you willingly came, it seems more suiting," Jazan said, bowing.

Nabile replied, "In all honesty, I was not expecting my own quarters… I mean…"

"Mine are little better, and there is time. You came willingly. We are not expecting you to run. Even if the rooms are disused. Already several servants have volunteered to come to help you with anything you might need, such as dressing, or…" He stared at her for a moment, then said, "Come."

Nabile followed him to a sitting room. He motioned for her to sit with a wave of his arm, then sat on a floor pillow in front of him. "I know that you do not know a lot of how to behave as a princess," he said. "In all honesty, that is a relief. But I think I need to know what you actually need from a servant. I already started looking at dressing maids, but I think you will probably not only not need them, but hate having them. Am I correct?"

"I can dress myself," Nabile said. "I can cook. I did the cooking when we had anything cookable. I don't know what else I could need…"

"Nor I. Although, someone like an advisor would be useful, if only to tell you what you're expected to do when a man offers his arm," he said, chucking.

"Sorry," she muttered. "It just is all so sudden and new… I don't feel worthy to be treated like a princess. I have been a thief for so long…"

Jazan nodded and poured some tea. "You're fine. This place is in ruins, and will be for awhile yet." He sipped his tea. "Nightsteed will help for now. I'll put out a notice that I need some kind of advisor for the queen. That should bring about the kind of person we are looking for."

Nabile left the room a few moments later. An awkward silence had come, and she had eventually excused herself.

The following morning, a strawberry Kau in black robes came and introduced herself as the queen's new chief advisor, Salama.

Salama dragged Nabile over Qasala for the next week, and Nabile only saw Jazan a few times a day.

Nabile knew she should not be jealous. He was busy rebuilding a city. His neglect of her was no more then him being busy building the city up from ruin. And yet, she felt lonely. Salama was nice enough, but had no sense of humor, and Nabile realized she had no idea weather or not Jazan did; and, unless he took time away from his work to at least walk the courtyard with her…

She sighed, then heard Nightsteed approach her. "Why the long face, Your Highness?"

Nabile flinched at the words. She still could not get used to being called it. "Nothing," Nabile said, hoping she sounded convincing.

" 'Nothing' never makes anyone look so glum," the Uni said, nuzzling her arm.

"It's just I'm bored, I guess. I have never had all I wanted to eat without work, and nobody wants me to lift a finger around here. And…" Nabile changed her mind. There was no reason to sound whiny about Jazan.

"Hmm. Just bored. I suppose you are doing better than I would fare in your place. If I was newly married, and had seen my spouse for maybe an hour total over a week, I would be about ready to pack my bags," the Nightsteed said.

Nabile looked up blankly.

"Of course I had hoped that maybe the look of melancholy was due to neglect," Nightsteed continued. "Then I could have made it seem like I was a hero by asking you to help me deal with our dear silly king. He has locked himself in a meeting with the mages, and has not slept or eaten more than a few slices of fruit. He always forgets that he is mortal and needs thing like food. But, I suppose now I must just beg for you to help me get him out of his office," the Uni said, laughing.

Nabile blushed. "How did you…?"

"Know you were feeling neglected? Because you are _being_ neglected. And the one neglecting you is forgetting to eat. So let's kill two birds with one stone and get the silly Kyrii to take a break," said the Nightsteed, pushing Nabile toward the palace.

Jazan looked up as the Nightsteed and Nabile entered the room. One of the advisors yelled, none too friendly, "This meeting is for lawmakers only!"

Jazan was in no mood to put up with courtiers insulting Nabile and slammed his fist into the table, yelling in Old Qasala, demanding respect.

Nabile jumped inwardly and started backing towards the door, only to be stopped by Nighsteed. "Jazan, the two of us have been speaking, and we both feel you should be taking a break," Nightsteed said.

A courtier replied, "It is not that woman's place to tell the king what to do!"

Jazan dismissed the meeting with a few words and a wave of his hand, muttering under his breath. "What is it?" he said coldly, rubbing his aching temples.

At this point, Nabile had worked her way to the door.

"Jazan, you are a married king now," Nightsteed said. "Your duties are important, of course, but you have added the care of a bride to it; and, so far, are failing miserably."

Jazan's eyes shot open and he turned to Nabile. "Has someone been unkind to you?" he asked in horror.

Nabile swore inwardly at her foiled escape plan. "I'm fine," she said, not looking at him.

"And by 'fine' she means she does not want to seem whiny about feeling lonely," Nightsteed said. "She is used to living in a small, confined area, full of people that treated her like a sister. Also, she is queen, but does not feel comfortable around courtiers. And, of course, the peasants won't make good company, and she is used to the company of thieves. She has behaved herself very well this week, but you have forgotten to eat several times, and meals are about the only time she sees you. I thought you wanted this curse broken."

Jazan paled a bit and approached Nabile. "I do apologise. Careless of me. I have been neglecting my duties to you."

"It's okay. It's just…" She paused, trying to frame what needed said. "We need to get to know each other. Only the first part of the curse is off. If we don't, the curse is apt to stay."

Jazan pushed Nabile's bangs aside and kissed her forehead softly, causing them both to blush. "You are correct, of course. And, until we move forward, you are first priority," he said gruffly.

Nabile nodded and took his offered arm, allowing him to lead her out into the courtyard. "Have lunch brought to us. We will be going for a walk outside the city," Jazan said.

Jazan paced up and down the path in long, determined strides. Nabile sat in the shade while they waited for lunch to be prepared. Soon, a basket was brought out, and Nabile and Jazan began hiking out towards the outskirts of the city. Jazan balanced the large basket on one shoulder and held Nabile's hand with the other. Nabile's mind wandered. Why was Jazan holding her hand so different from when Tomas had so often? The fur on both of their hands was rough — Tomas' from life on the streets, Jazan's from, what, sword fighting? Or did paperwork also give one hard-work-hands? Or, perhaps, sorcery… Both hands seemed to fit easily in hers; but, perhaps, for different reasons. Jazan's was nervous. Down was the façade of the brave and evil prince. The poison of the curse still messed with his mind, but he was intelligent enough to know when fighting would be counterintuitive. He was impatient by nature as well. Nabile knew that. While he would have put a love spell over Amira, he was taking it slow with her, learning to love her, knowing she cared at least a bit for him.

Nabile spread a blanket on the ground under the shade of a large rock wall near the edge of the city. Jazan brought out the food and laid it out. There was silence, but not an uncomfortable one. It was a comfortable — albeit a bit nervous — silence. So much was left unsaid because the topics were untouchable, but problems of heirs and laws pressed on the back of Jazan's mind as he ate. It had not been 'til that morning that he had realized that an heir needed to be born as soon as possible. He had made many enemies attacking Sakhmet, and several officials had threatened his life after hearing about what he had done to their beloved, bratty princess. Nabile had come of her own free will, but she was from the streets. The men that cared about her were good at being inconspicuous. At the back of his mind, Jazan feared that some Scarab would come seeking revenge for Nabile's disappearance.

Nabile nibbled at the fruit. She was still uncomfortable eating. Salama had gotten on to her for gulping down food the first meal they had eaten together. It had not bothered Jazan so much; but, then again, he had been raised by a general with six sons, so it seemed no worse than the boys that he considered his brothers.

"Hey, Salama's not here. You can eat faster like you're used to," he chuckled.

"Salama gave me the what-for on eating like a lady already," Nabile said lamely.

"Well, you're eating like a Miamouse, and that is no better, dear," the Kyrii king said, laughing.

"You're okay with me eating fast?" she asked.

It was not as though she minded eating slow, but it made her nervous to think that she could eat as much as she wanted as long as she took her time eating. It was like the opposite of how she had been raised. Salama would pull her away from a meal for gulping, but if she nibbled on the streets, she would be without a full stomach. Not that she had ever experienced a full one before. She had thought that a full Tchea fruit was a meal. But soon, she had learned that there was a feeling of sleepiness that came from a real, full meal.

Nabile took a large bite of a sandwich and gulped down the hot tea Jazan poured for her. Jazan ate like he walked: hurried and determined. The meal complete, Nabile sat watching the sun set. It was like a date form a story book. A date with a prince — no, a king.

She felt a weight on her lap and realized that Jazan had laid down, resting his head on her lap, eyes closed. He looked tired, worn out from the meeting. Or not sleeping. Nabile could not sleep with the closed door and always opened it. Thief's habit, she supposed. The servants passed and closed it the first few nights, but soon realized that it was the queen that was opening the door and left it alone. Nabile would lie awake at night, watching the door. Jazan would go to bed and then get up a few minutes later and not go to bed again. Sometimes, she would find him in the morning having fallen asleep at his desk.

Nabile placed a cool hand on his forehead, rubbing it slightly. He caught her other hand in his own and held it gently for a moment. Or an eternity. All Nabile knew was that she was called away by Salama all too soon for her "lady lessons," as she had taken to calling them.

The two of them stood up, putting away the remains of the picnic.

"Go on, she will have my fur if I keep you out much longer," Jazan said, smiling.

Nabile nodded and ran full gait toward the voice. Jazan watched in surprise. She ran with speed and grace. And then, instead of going around the wall, she scaled it as though it was nothing, then jumped down as though it was nothing.

If it had been anyone else, Jazan would have accused them of showing off.

"Where were you?" Salama griped as Nabile approached.

"Picnicking with King Jazan," Nabile said, not even panting from her run.

Salama looked irritated. "Were the two of you done?" she said nervously.

"With eating? Yes, we were just watching the sunset. Or I was, anyway. He was napping," Nabile said, going to her wash table and rinsing the sand from her face.

"So you just interrupted their alone time, no big deal?" the Nighsteed said, irritably coming into the room. "Not like it's necessary for the welfare of this country, the continuation of the bloodline, or, you know, normal bonding between newlyweds?"

"Well, how was I to know she was with him?" Salama griped. "And I am not so sure she should be alone with him with her manners!"

"Pfft. Jazan is over the moon that Nabile came of her own free will. He could not care less that she is a bit strange. He admits she would have to be to manage to live here and love here," the Nightsteed snapped back. He then said, "Let her off for the rest of the day. Jazan needs a rest and I think she is the best hope we have of making sure our now-mortal ruler does not die of self-neglect."

Nabile snuck out of the room while the two advisors argued. They were quite similar, actually. Nightsteed, she felt, would have let her get away with murder and called it cute… Salama was the same way about Jazan. However, Salama felt Nabile was not ready to be queen (and Nabile agreed,) and Nighsteed treated Jazan as a child most of the time. Then again, from what she understood, Nighsteed had been the advisor to the previous king (that no one would talk about for some reason,) and had been the one who found people to raise Jazan when he was too young for the palace. Nabile looked at the large painting in the hall of Jazan as a child next to a Kacheek woman who Nabile guessed was his mother. She was wearing the same dress, anyway. "Why did you have to send your son away?" Nabile asked the painting absentmindedly. "Does the palace environment not let mothers raise their children?"

"Not so much that as my father was going insane and believed that, as a three year old, I was plotting his death," Jazan said, approaching Nabile and looking at the painting. "Plus, my wet-nurse was the wife of a general, so I was always playing war with my toys. I must have seemed suspicious, I suppose. Plotting things, or something. Why, was that worrying you?" he asked.

"I'll be honest and say a bit. The books did not touch on your father much, just on your work trying to rebuild the kingdom after some horrible accident," Nabile said, feeling his arm wrap around her shoulders.

"What are those two fighting about?" Jazan muttered hearing the Kau and Uni fighting in Nabile's room.

"Whether or not I should be allowed to be alone with you," Nabile replied.

Jazan had felt Nabile stiffen, then relax under his arm. "Come," he whispered softly into her hair. "Let's go see what is going on in town."

Nabile took his arm and followed him to the city.

There was hustle and bustle, of course, but not to the extent that Nabile was used to. And it was strange that shopkeepers kept approaching her, offering her free samples. It was strange: now that she could afford to buy stuff, people offered her things for free.

Nabile sighed and began looking for beggar kids. She, like every Scarab, had always imagined a day when she would become rich enough to help people. It was then that she noticed that there seemed to be no kids on the streets. She stopped in her tracks, looking harder around.

"What is it?" Jazan asked.

"Where are the children?" Nabile asked.

"We have not had a child born since the curse began, and children aged up to twenty then stopped after the curse started," Jazan said with no small amount of sadness in his voice.

Nabile nodded.

"And we can't expect that children will be born until after the curse is fully off," he continued, placing his hand over hers.

Nabile nodded again. For some reason, a town without kids was giving her the creeps.

She leaned into Jazan. His touch was protective — caring. She knew he was impatient by nature, but he was gentle with her. Nightsteed had said that Nabile was like a cool breeze to the king. It calmed him — kept him peaceful.

The next few weeks were some of the best of Nabile's life. She learned quickly to look forward to Jazan's company and spent many hours talking with him while they walked the courtyard or outskirts of the city. One particular evening, they had spent almost an hour at Nabile's door to her room, laughing about the evening. Jazan had bent down and kissed her cheek softly and said in whisper, "I love you." Nabile melted into his chest, feeling happier than she had in as long as she could remember. "And I you," she had whispered back, only loud enough for him to hear. When she pulled away, she had fully expected for the curse to be off.

The next day, Jazan did not come to breakfast. He had apparently not been able to finish his paperwork 'til late and had decided to sleep in that morning. So Nabile asked the Nightsteed after breakfast, "Shouldn't the curse be lifted by now?" at about the same time Jazan had passed into the dining room, looking groggy and half-dead. The Uni laughed uncontrollably at this and asked the Kyrii king, "Should it be off, My Lord?"

"Oh, ha-ha-ha," the irritated king replied.

"Why do you say that?" the Uni asked Nabile.

Nabile looked actually upset, but made no reply.

Jazan answered for her, though, saying, "Nabile took the prophesy differently than we did, old friend… She read 'joined in love' and took it to mean 'love,' not the actual translation of the word meaning 'union of the bodies.' "

Nabile turned red as a beet. "So it made no difference if it was I or Amira?" she said, looking extremely upset (and embarressed to boot.)

"It made a difference to me," Jazan said. "I had no… _have_ no wish for an unhappy marriage. With Amira, it would have been torture for us both. The spell I used to bring Qasala to this dimension was on a short time span. I did not have time to ask what you thought the spell meant. It was not until one of your maids said something the other day that I realized you had misinterpreted the text… and, in all honesty, I would have preferred we never actually have this conversation."

Nabile nodded, but spent the next hour in her room. The next few weeks they saw less of each other. Between his work and her schooling, they did not have as much time as they would have liked. Although, the time they did spend together was wonderful.

Jazan rubbed his red fur with a towel, drying himself. He could hear Nabile talking to someone in the hall. A Kacheek skeleton servant was nodding enthusiastically. Nabile was apparantly explaining how she wanted her room rearranged.

Jazan sighed. They needed to move forward. If he did not get things to move faster, he had an aching fear that his darling wife would forever have her own room. Not that he wanted her uncomfortable… but she did not need to get too comfortable in her own room.

The Kacheek left upon seeing the king approach. Nabile turned to him, giving him a radiant smile. "You're going to bed early!" she said cheerfully.

Jazan nodded and held out his arms. She met him in the hug happily. It was as far as they had gotten, but nothing in the world felt more natural. Although, at times, Jazan wished for more, and he was sure that Nabile probably felt the same way. So why did he feel so nervous about just kissing her cheek? He had managed it twice. Kissing her forehead was one thing, kissing her cheek was another altogether. He needed to move beyond that.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Nabile's voice. "What's wrong?" she asked, looking worried.

"Nothing, my love," Jazan said, pushing aside her dark black hair. "Merely thinking."

She did not look convinced and continued to search his face for an answer. Jazan closed his eyes. Working up every ounce of courage he possessed, he bent his head down, their noses touching. He herd her breath catch and he began to pull away. Not fast enough, though. He could feel Nabile's hands gripping his robes. He felt himself falling forward, her soft lips on his own. It was addictive. Euphoric. The best side of him celebrated victory with the worst part of his ego. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. After a moment, she pulled away, blushing somewhat, then giggled and buried her face in his chest. Jazan could have crowed. This was what it felt like to be king of the world. This was what it felt like to be loved.

Jazan could feel a purr threatening the form in this throat. He nuzzled her neck softly. "You're amazing," he heard himself say. What did that even mean? Should he not be upset with his queen being forward? What she had done was, in all honesty, unladylike. And anyway, it was just a kiss. So why did it seem so perfect?

Simple, he decided: because the adorable pink Ixi was perfect. In every way possible.

"I am so sorry," Salama said, turning away from the hallway. The pair dove apart as though there was a fire between them. Which was stupid, Jazan decided. They were married, after all.

Jazan could not sleep. Well, that was actually normal. What was _not_ normal was that he felt no reason to ruin his feeling of euphoria by going and doing paperwork 'til he fell asleep at his desk. Unfortunately, he was prevented from doing what he actually wanted to do by the guards in the hallway. If the guards had not been there, he would have gone to Nabile's room and peeked at her. He knew she was there. Asleep, most likely, unless she was restless like him. She had kissed him. He had not had to force himself upon her. He had not had to ask her. It was not even as though the thing had been planned. She had just seen him chicken out — fear her rejection and pull away. Then she had moved in. Sheer euphoria. He closed his eyes, hoping to be calm enough to sleep. But, it was no good. Giving up, he stood up, pulled on a robe, and approached his door, opening it and walking towards her door. For some reason, Nabile's guards were not there. Not sure what he was doing, Jazan walked quickly through her doorway and closed the door behind him. One of her maids was sitting in her cot reading. The maid looked up, and Jazan blushed horribly, dashing out of the room, attempting to decide how he was going to deal with that particular soon-to-be piece of gossip.

Wishing to cool his head, Jazan slipped into the courtyard. He heard some guards talking and saw Nabile sitting on the fountain. She looked slightly irritated — possibly at the guards he had ordered to watch her — although nobody was regretting that more than _him_ at that moment.

"Good evening, Your Highness," a guard said gruffly as he approached.

Nabile looked up and turned beet red, looking into her lap. "Would you give us a moment?" Jazan asked the guards. "I think I will be perfectly capable of protecting my queen from those pesky night-time courtyard assassins," he added sarcastically.

He was rewarded with a light laugh from Nabile, and the guards' obedience.

He sat next to her, feeling as nervous as she looked.

She broke the silence first. "Sorry…" she whispered

Jazan felt confused. What had she done to be sorry about? "For what, sneaking out?" he asked. "You took the guards as annoying, as they are, and only went to the courtyard. You're safe enough, and—"

"No…" she muttered, interrupting. "The… well, you know… Salama told me it was wrong… I'm sorry…"

Jazan could feel horror building up in his stomach. _Salama had what?!_

"Let me get this straight: your advisor told you it was wrong to kiss your husband?" Jazan said, fear bubbling in his gut. It would be messy to fire her, but if he did not do something…

"No, making first move. I did not realise that was taboo or anything. I thought I was not doing anything weird."

Jazan sighed. "Look, my love," he said. "I have no idea what I am doing. I was engaged to someone I never met as part of a political deal for most of my life growing up, but we never met, so I never had practice with this kind of thing. And later, I courted the daughter of the sister of the man that raised me, but we conversed via letters because her family were merchants, so I still did not know how to do more then write a pretty letter. And anyway, when our relationship got out, the courts about had my head, and the girl's family forbade us to speak. About that time, my father started cursing the city, so I did not even attempt to see her." Jazan blushed. It all had come out in a rush, and he had not meant it to. Plus, Nabile looked kind of shell-shocked. "What I mean to say," he continued, "is that I was relieved. I have wanted to for days, but I am scared to death of rejection…"

Nabile smiled wickedly. "It's a bit late for that, my love. I'm kind of stuck with you for life."

Jazan laughed and sat next to her. She leaned against him and Jazan held her hand absentmindedly, twirling the ring on her finger.

Then something began to bother him. He knew it should not, but it ripped at his gut like a monster, taking away from the comfort of their position. Giving up, he asked the question: "What about you?"

"Hmm?" Nabile asked, clearly more relaxed than he was.

"Was there anyone before me?" Jazan said, wishing his voice did not sound so much like it was begging.

"Well, yes… I guess… but they were both thieves, so we knew it was not going to last. And Tomas did not like Seki much anyway. And we both liked Jen, but he was a horrible thief — better suited to work in an office — and he eventually got a job."

Jazan closed his eyes. "So you have kissed before?"

Nabile sat up, looking at him seriously. "Are we talking deep, emotional attachment, or just kissing?"

Jazan looked hurt. "Should not deep emotional attachment come first?"

"With me, this is the first it has," Nabile said, looking stern. "Aside from those two, there are others who I was involved with, but not actually in love with."

What Jazan did next, he would regret for years. He stood up and stiffly said, "Goodnight, Nabile," then went to his room to fume.

Should he be mad? No. Was he actually angry with her? Hell no! But he found his eyes were glowing red and fire had appeared around his fists with anger. But at whom? Those men and boys who had realised how amazing Nabile was? If they had not, it would have been stranger… but that anyone had touched her before he even met her was making him furiously jealous. Jealous beyond reason or logic. He was unsure how long he stared in the mirror in his room, attempting to calm himself, but he was brought from his daze when Nightsteed approached, saying, "Did the two of you have a fight?"

Jazan breathed in and out. "No," he said darkly.

"Be that as it may, she is in her room crying and has ordered away the maids. So, if you two did not have your first fight, you should be told now that if you said or did anything to upset her, I will be the first to compare you to your father."

Jazan groaned, rubbing his eyes. "I know it should not bother me! She is young, but not a child. And, by anyone's standards, she is a beauty, and smart, and funny. It would have been strange if no other man had taken interest in her… but to know she took interest in others is causing me to lose control. I do not want to scare or upset her, but I can barely keep the fire down." He showed his flaming hands.

Nightsteed sighed. "So she had a boyfriend at some point. Why is this bothering you now? The only person from her old life that seems to want her to return is that Tomas, and considering how close they were, and that he is not trying to kill you, I would say that Tomas was probably not one of the boyfriends."

"Not that she mentioned, anyway…" muttered Jazan.

"Okay, idiot, how many men are we talking here?" the Uni replied irritably. "She was too underfed to be working as a night walker before you, so I doubt it is actually all that bad."

Jazan glared at him and said, "I do not know, but apparently she had two she actually considered herself in love with, and several that she became physical with…"

Realization dawned on the Nightsteed "Oh. It's _that_ that's bothering you. That she will most likely know better than you what she is doing… No offence, Jazan, but that is probably for the best. If she had been a complete novice like yourself, I doubt that this curse would be lifted. She is naturally a rather subdued individual, and you're far too easily embarrassed."

Jazan dunked his hands into the wash basin. "I know… but I wish to curse those men that touched her just the same…"

"And about that 'touch…' What are we talking about here? Pardon the press for information…"

Jazan shrugged. "I don't want to know," he muttered.

"I think you should probably take that last magic detox so that you don't go crazy on her and ask," Nightsteed said. "Because I think your imagination has probably run wild…"

Jazan nodded and began digging through a drawer, looking for the pill.

Nabile's door was only opened a crack. The guards stood stationed outside, but moved a bit as he approached her room. He peeked in. She was curled up around a pillow, her back facing the doorway. Jazan crept inside, knelt beside her, and put a hand out to touch her shoulder.

Nabile gave a gasp and jumped. "Sorry to scare you," he said in as calm a voice as he could muster. "I should have knocked."

If he had been angry, it melted seeing her tear-streaked face. At his words, new tears had begun to bubble up. Jazan held his ground for all of three seconds before scooping her up and holding her. Guilt was gnawing at him, knowing he had made her cry. Tears began to form in his own eyes, and he felt Nabile's shoulders shake a bit. "I'm sorry," she cried into his shirt.

"It's… you did nothing wrong, Nabile," he said. "I know that now. I guess I'm just the jealous type… extremely jealous…" He laid her down and lied next to her, stoking her cheek. "Please don't cry… I'm not mad… not at you… I'm mad at myself for being bothered by it."

Nabile buried her face in his chest and cried a bit more… but eventually, she stopped, and Jazan realized with a start that she had fallen asleep. Unfortunately, he was irritated, very unreleased, and moody, so him sleeping was an impossibility… On the other hand, if he moved, she would wake up, or not and be offended he had left her…

Jazan sighed, using his free hand (the one whose matching arm was not being used as a pillow) to pull a pillow to him. He sighed again. Holding her. Their first night together was not supposed to be like this. Just when Jazan was beginning to doze off, Nabile woke up. She pushed herself into a sitting position, looking at Jazan confused.

"You up?" Jazan yawned.

"Not really," Nabile admitted, lying back down with her back to him.

Jazan wrapped his arm around her, pulling her towards him, saying, "Nabile, I love you, okay… But I think, in order to get some kind of piece of mind, I need to know what you did with those men…"

"Nothing…" Nabile said, not turning towards him.

"You said you had become physical with them before…" Jazan said, hoping his voice did not sound as bitter as he felt.

"No, I said I had kissed, been kissed, whatever before. We never got past that. The streets aren't conductive to a good relationship, and no way were we going to do anything that might even accidently put another kid on the streets… So yeah, a few times, we switched thief partners and snuck off to make out behind a fruit stall for a minute, holding hands. That was about it."

Jazan's heart felt like lead… "So, not much more then we have done?" he breathed.

Nabile rolled over to face him, looking irritated. "I would say less. Look, I don't know what you take me for, but I'm not stupid. I knew perfectly well that I could not feed myself, let alone a kid. I let my guard down more around you because… well, I'm not worried, I guess. But, at the back of my mind, with everyone else it's always been, 'Don't let it go too far, or you'll regret it, Nabile.' Actually, the Scarabs have a strict no dating policy. How come they put us in male and female pairs is to avoid something like that happening. Tomas and I have been together since we were three, so he was more of a sibling than anything else. And, because we needed the full attention of the other, we did not take kindly to others getting attention from them… so I'm actually kind of worried about Tomas without me…"

Jazan closed his eyes… mountain out of a Symole hole… great…

He sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. Yeah, his mind had wandered… after all, Nabile seemed okay with marrying a guy she never met, and she actually sought him out. And, of course, she had been the one to kiss him. In his angered state, this had not been evidence of how loving and kind she was, but rather evidence that she may have spent the night with a man in the physical sense. To know that she had not — that he had overreacted — was humiliating… But, his reaction had upset Nabile — strong, patient, kind Nabile — so much so that she had cried.

"Did you think I was stupid enough to throw myself at men randomly?" Nabile said darkly.

Jazan's sarcastic humor got the better of him at that point, and, leaning over her, trapping her between his arms, he replied, "Well, you came and offered yourself to me the first day we met, remember?"

"That was kind of an emergency," Nabile said, blushing. "And you two would have killed each other. At least I knew you were not a maniac…"

"So a lot of what we do together will be new for you as well?" Jazan asked.

Nabile placed her hand on his shoulders and nodded. "Actually, I'm completely new to romance… and you're kind of a romantic… Flowers, gifts, picnics… I feel like I've stepped into a fairytale… the kind that is going to end with 'happily ever after.' But… I'm so scared I'm going to wake up… or upset you, or disappoint you… and then I start to think you're going to get tired of me." She looked sad. "When you asked, I figured it was best to tell the truth… I was not expecting you to get so upset…" she concluded.

"I'm sorry, my love," Jazan replied. "I was reading between lines that weren't there, and wanted to turn those men into something unpleasant… "

Nabile laughed a bit and closed her eyes. Jazan found himself kissing her more passionately than he knew was possible. Not just her face. His body seemed to move of its own accord, and his lips found a ticklish spot on her neck that made her giggle. "Stop," she gasped between muted giggles.

"Why?" the king replied. "We're married. We could go farther than this and it would still be okay…" He said this while wondering at his own bravery. Maybe it was the dark of the room making him feel braver. Maybe it was the fact that Nabile did not actually seem to be upset with him.

She relaxed a bit at his words, but said just the same, "I'm horribly ticklish, so please don't… the maids…"

It was too much. A mixture of relief and joy caused the king to laugh loudly. One of the guards actually opened the door to peek in… although, seeing the queen in a compromising position and the king laughing hard, he decided he did not want to investigate further. Nabile wanted to yell at the guard, but the more intelligent side of her realized that that would ruin the moment.

Calming down, Jazan began kissing her again. Experimenting. Learning what worked. He continued to kiss her neck, although in a far slower manor that caused her to melt into him instead of giggle. He heard a slight moan escape her and realized he may have gone too far — it was not time yet… His mind started working again.

He got up, giving her one final kiss. "Paperwork," he said, and went to the office to cool his head… His own needs were dulled by the curse. Hers were not. If he was feeling a bit of desire, she must be…

He blushed and splashed water on his face. "Soon," he said to no one in particular, then picked up the paper.

That particular night marked a turning point in their relationship. Jazan had realized that, despite everything, he could still get his bride to want him. This was enough to keep the demons of worry at bay. She loved him, but that was not enough to break the curse. They needed to be joined in love, the curse had said. When he had first read it, Jazan had thought he was doomed… but then, he had found another book written in Old Qasala, and found that the particular word his father had used in the text was not actually referring to love, but rather to love _making_ … It had been horrifying at first, but over fifty years, he got used to the idea, and sought out the prophesized princess. During the tiny window of time he had had when the spell on Qasala was at its weakest, he had acted.

He smiled. Of course he had sought out the wrong princess, but it had come out fine enough. Sure, he still felt guilty over the whole thing — still wished he had gone and told the two Scarabs walking around in the ruins about his curse. Nabile would have still decided to make things right. She had a strong sence of justice, and she probably would have come with him on his second meeting and still been found out… But, so long as Nabile was with him now…

Speaking of which, were was she? Her maids had taken her to the palace bath house, but she should have finished by now. He walked toward her quarters and found her wrapped in a loosely tied robe, reading and writing. Or, rather, practicing her Qasala. Her accent was passable, but her hand writing was atrocious…

He sat next the her and playfully poked at one of the symbols "What's that, a Wadjet?" he teased, kissing the back of her neck.

"Stop," Nabile warned.

Jazan sighed. She had about three voices she said "stop" in: one was, "Don't do it that way, I'm ticklish." The second was, "I don't want you to stop, but if we go on, I won't be able to." And the third one, which he was not very fond of, actually meant, "Cut it out." Sadly, she was actually asking him to leave her be.

He sighed again. "Nabile, I have gotten almost no time off work lately, and you have been busy studying. We still need to bond, remember?"

"If I don't finish this worksheet, Salama will have my head!" Nabile said. "And this is also a children's workbook, to teach them to read, so I'm feeling kind of humiliated. I don't want to 'see Razan run' ever again."

Jazan snickered and stood up, stretching. "I'll see you later, then," he said cheerfully.

"Will you make it to dinner?" she asked hopefully.

"I'll try my best," Jazan replied. "If not, don't wait up to eat. I don't have much work left, so unless there's an emergency, I'll be there. If there _is_ an emergency, I'll tell you I wont make it, and you can arrange to eat in my office, if you'd like."

Nabile nodded. Eating in the office was a compromise between Nabile needing company and him needing to remember to eat.

Jazan returned to his paperwork with a lighter heart and began to work. It was not until he looked at the clock that he realised how long he had been there. Dinner would have already been started, and if he was not there but she was, most likely the court would have had their way with her, whether that be putting her at the head of the table, ruining her appetite, or, if they were in a bad mood, putting her at the foot due to her birth… Jazan groaned and dashed out toward the dinner hall. As expected, sadly, one of his more annoying advisors had taken a seat at the head of the table at put Nabile at the foot, about four chairs away from everyone else. He saw Nabile pack a few fruits and some bread in her napkin and excuse herself. The court did not even notice. "You're late," she said, not unkindly, as she met him at the door.

"Sorry," Jazan said, "I got stuck in a pile of paperwork and lost track of time. What did you steal for us, my bandit queen?"

"Oh, ha-ha-ha," Nabile replied. "This is all for me, because they decided they did not like me today. If you're hungry, you go get your own."

Jazan laughed and followed her to his study. She pulled out the dishes she kept stashed in the cupboard and set out two plates, then began cutting the fruit into a bowl and drizzling honey over it. She then put a small loaf of bread and a bit of cheese next to the fruit salad on the simple wooden plate and handed it to Jazan. He ate in silence, watching her work on her writing book. When she had finished, he said, "Take a break — it's late."

"I have been going to bed later lately. I think your horrible sleep schedule is rubbing off on me," she laughed.

"I was thinking of going to bed early. You should join me." He prayed she would take the hint…

"I'm not sleepy yet," she replied. "I'll just finish this. You can go. I'll head to my room in a bit."

Jazan could have banged his head on the table… He had tried about six times to drop the hints lightly enough that she would not freak out, but maybe understand him… but nothing so far had worked. Which only left the more direct approach. Although, that required a bit more… well, finesse…

He leaned against the wall, glaring at the guards. They, being guards, did not notice… So he ordered them away. He heard Nabile and her two guards approaching. She was talking to Salama about whether or not it was okay for a Qasala queen to wear a Sakhmet dress when Nabile saw him. "I though you were going to bed," she said. "Insomnia?"

Jazan sighed and followed Nabile into her room. Salama left, but the guards stood watch. He helped her unhook the top of her dress, then she went behind a curtain to change — it had become their bedtime routine — followed by a session of making out… and then they would separate for the night.

Nabile came into his arms, and they began to kiss. Deepening the kiss, they could both feel the heat of their own passions ignite. They continued for a moment before Nabile said, "Stop." It was the we-are-going-too-far stop. Jazan kissed her again, then started kissing her neck, causing her to moan lightly, still asking him to stop… but in a voice that begged for more. Then, "Stop teasing, Jazan," he heard her say.

…Oh.

So that was the problem.

"I'm not, my love," he replied, hoping she would get the hint.

"Yes you are… I cant take much more, so unless you plan on continuing, go to your room, mister," she said, half laughingly.

"Nabile, I never intend to tease you in this way again," he said seriously.

He felt her go tense in his arms, her face studying his. "You mean…?"

"If you are ready, my queen… I am" he replied.

Nabile nodded. Then, "My room or yours?" he asked. "There is no way this is not getting all over the palace. If I dismiss the guards, they know. If I stay here, they know. And, if we move to my room, they still know. So where will it be?"

Nabile looked irritated at this turn of questioning, but stopped and thought for a moment. "You spoke about me moving into your room after…" she said

"Yes… I would prefer it if we did share a room," he said. "I know most nobles keep their own quarters, but… family-wise, I plan to be a lot more hands-on than my father was."

Nabile nodded, then said, "It may as well be your room, then. The bed's bigger, anyway."

Jazan nodded, then picked her up, princess-style, enjoying the laugh he was greeted with for his actions. He carried her to his room. The guards looks very uncomfortable as Jazan told them to go stand and guard the hallway instead of the rooms. He lay her on his bed and began untying her robe.

Jazan lay in the dark, panting somewhat. Nabile curled up next to him, her legs wrapped around one of his, her arms hugging his chest. His arms were wrapped around her. It was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. Nabile was saying something in a whisper, but it was all Jazan could do to stay awake. He felt so relaxed — so at ease. He had stopped worrying about the court. Stopped worrying about his father's threat to return. Stopped worrying about everything that did not relate to Nabile. And what was to worry about there? She was perfect. And she loved him — called his name so sweetly, begging him to kiss her. She desired his affection as much as he needed hers. He had hated his name for so long. His father had chosen it — named him after three evil kings of their country… But Nabile's voice… it gave new life to the name. When she spoke his name, it was his, not any stupid evil king's. How had he lived so long without her?

Simple… he had not. Not having her had been the worse part of the curse. Not being with Nabile was the real half-life. And, if it had not been for the curse, they would not have met… Was it wrong to thank his blasted father for Nabile? Was it wrong to want to tell the world what a wonder she was?

She was speaking again. Her voice was above him now. He opened his eyes. Her dark, messed-up hair fell in a curtain around them, blocking out observers. She was so beautiful when worried… but why was she worried? Everything was perfect… "Jazan? Are you okay?"

Okay? No, he was not okay. He was better than okay. Okay was doing paperwork. Joy was walking in the park. But this was so much more than that. He closed his eyes again, willing sleep to claim him. Nabile was talking to someone. Why was she doing that? It was their night… she should be sleeping as well. Was she not tired after all that?

Jazan could here Nighsteed's voice. "He's fine, Nabile. Just overwhelmed. Mages are more aware of all senses — taste, smell, anger, pleasure, everything. He is just overpowered."

"He's not responding to anything!"

"Bah!" Salama said. "He is just asleep. Go to bed, and don't wake us just because the king consummated your union. It was none of our business, anyway."

Jazan awoke to the bustle of the palace, and Nabile looking distraught. He sat up, wrapping his arms around her, saying, "What's wrong, my love?"

"You're still… everyone is still cursed. Why are you still cursed? Is it possible I'm not actually a…"

Jazan cut her off with a stern look. "Don't go there," he said coldly.

"Jazan, if I'm not a princess, we need to stop this so you are able to cure the curse," Nabile said, tears streaming down her face.

Jazan sighed. Did breaking the curse matter enough to make him want to leave her?

No. If she was willing to love him as he was, then, even if she was just a thief playing dress-up, she was more of a princess than he could ever wish for.

He reached up, grabbing her shoulders. "Nabile, do you love me? Despite the curse and everything?" he asked, looking her in the eyes.

"Of course," Nabile whispered, burying her face in his chest and crying softly.

Jazan sighed, holding her close. "Then we will find another way to break the curse. Maybe we don't understand the whole of the prophecy," he said.

Nabile looked up, and Jazan bent up a bit to kiss her softly. He could feel her lips on his own — soft, longing. He deepened the kiss. It had become second nature. She melted into him. They fit together as though they were made to be together. They were supposed to be together, and nothing could change that.

He would have to think of what to do. At the vary least, if the curse was not broken, he needed to get her some easier means of travel back and forth from Qasala to Sakhmet. But that could wait. They had the whole day ahead of them, and Jazan had decided to tell the court he was taking the day off.

 _After the curse has been lifted…_

Nabile lied in the bed, feeling as though a roof had collapsed on her. She felt better than she had; and, between Jazan and Amira, she had wanted for nothing. But still, she felt weak. She, unlike Jazan, was not a magic user. To her, it had been overpowering, leaving her weak and unable to move, but still wide awake as though she had drank too much coffee. After two months, she was still a wreck.

Jazan came in, followed by the Gnorbu doctor. "What is wrong?!" Jazan said, irritably.

"Nothing is wrong," the doctor replied. "It is just I think that she should not return to Qasala yet."

Nabile's heart sank. Jazan came to her often enough — even snuck into her room some nights — but Qasala's curse was off, and the city needed him as well.

"You said she could return home after two months in bed," Jazan said. "I am taking her home tomorrow. "

The doctor shook his head. "She is of a delicate constitution. Life on the streets has left her body malnourished and over-exerted. She is still healing from that, and that magic did a number on her. I'm fearful of what a trip like that will due to her. At the very least, the ride will probably wreak havoc on her by dislodging any more traces of magic."

"The magic left in her system is not going anywhere anytime soon," Jazan replied. "She has probably reached the point where her body can get it out and what is left will have to be shaken out or sweated out. It won't be pleasant, but it would be worse for her if it got too stuck. She needs to be off bed rest."

The doctor glared. "As far as I can tell, you two have not been following all the bed rest rules I set. Because of that — which could have honestly hurt her, by the way — it seems that the child is actually cleaning the magic from her system. Absorbing it, if you will, from the inside. Of course, if you would rather risk your unborn child's life by overpowering his or her system with his evil grandfather's magic, that is your option. But, as a medical advisor, I tell you to let the child alone. He or she recognizes the blood connection to the magic, and is using it — absorbing it slowly. Give the child a month, and it will be out of her system, and the child will be healthier for it."

Jazan had heard and understood two things from that particular statement: One, the doctors knew he was sneaking in at night to see his wife… And two, that some of their "activities" had resulted in the long-awaited heir…

"Jazan… did you hear what he said?" Nabile said softly reaching out to him.

Ignoring Nabile's protest, the Kyrii picked the Ixi up and spun her around, laugh-yelling in a loud voice "We're going to be parents!"


End file.
